Five Crossover Encounters During Anthy's Search - Part Three
A World Without Heroes
This world saps her with every step. It's barely capable of supporting magic, and what little of it exists feels alien to Anthy. Not hostile, perhaps, but not friendly, either, and she's not fond of taking careless chances. It appears just as devoid of warmth, but that may just be psychosomatic.
Anthy's seen worse.
There's a howl of a police car siren fast approaching. The girls in front of her don't even look up from their conversation. Somewhere, a radio is announcing an armed bank robbery. One employee has already been reported dead and another wounded. The wounded man will survive, Anthy thinks, but one of the robbers will be shot by the police for resisting arrest. Stupid. His partner will serve two years' time and get on with his life.
She notices the boy before he spots her, the one other person listening in to the world's arrhythmic beat. A barricade of police cars circles the bank in front of them. "Don't worry, this should be over soon," he says when he catches her watching. His expression radiates concern, but underneath it lies a subtle layer of condescension. "My father is the chief of police. His men know what they're doing."
"I'm sure," Anthy says. She has no opinion on the matter.
The boy keeps talking. "There are always people who'd do anything for their own gain, but there are also those willing to stop them. That's going to be me, someday." Anthy remembers another boy, who would have taken on the pain of the world, singlehandedly, and the man he became, mouthing the same exact words even though he'd lost the feeling behind them eons ago. The need to appear a Prince had outweighed the heart of it.
"So you want to help those hurt by criminals?"
"Of course," he says, but she can tell it's an afterthought. To this boy, the victims are someone else's problem. Tonight, an exhausted policeman will tell the murdered bank teller's family that their mother, wife and sister won't be coming home ever again. The policeman's colleagues will have already retired for the night, believing their job complete and well-done. Even if he graduated with honor, underwent rigorous training and joined the force, this boy would always remain one of the latter.
"Good luck with that, Dear," she says, and the look on his face is puzzled. Is she older than her appearance has led him to believe? Because there's no way someone his own age would have, effectively, referred to him as one would to a child.
He wants to be a Prince, there's no doubt about that. Anthy won't outright deny his chances of succeeding - she's recently regained her ability to be surprised - but somehow, she doubts that he has what it takes. As he is, he has the willpower or at least the desire necessary but lacks the compassion. Now that she thinks about it, he reminds her a great deal of Kiryuu Touga.
This is a world that is, at first glace, crying out for a Prince to come and save it, but she knows better now. No single person is capable of doing that. To think that one could would be either arrogant or suicidal. Perhaps both at the same time.
When she tries to look into the boy's future, all she sees are the pages of a black notebook, fluttering and running bloody with ink, and a name, written in a relaxed, unhesitating hand. Yagami Light.
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